Behind Closed Doors
by OriginalityNeeded
Summary: Rachel, Simon, Park, and Jake. Four first years come to Hogwarts expecting what they all do: adventure, magic, and fun. Along with the thing that nobody ever seems to expect: secrets. The four of them are about to discover everything Hogwarts has to offer


**AN/ **Whooo! I'm back. Okay, in a new archive, but still, I'm back.

I was originally supposed to post this yesterday, but, yeah, stuff came up. Oh, and this little introduction thing is horrible, please disregard it.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to the lovely and brilliant Joanne Rowling. Lucky duck.

Once upon a time, not very far off, there lived four wizards. Admittedly, one of them was a witch, so that makes three wizards and a witch. Now, these four were of age, and talented, and clever, and quite good looking, if I do say so myself. The four were best friends, evidently, and were closer than any siblings hoped to be. But, before they became the wonderful witch and wizards they are now, they were four innocent (enough) eleven year olds. And that is where our story of Jake, Simon, Rachel and Park begins…

_Right… left… right…wait, don't slow walk! _Thought Rachel Laroche, as she was about to dive into the pool of the high school. She backed up and took a breath. _Right, left, right, curve in…_

She felt herself shoot to the bottom, the cool water offering no resistance as Rachel went down ten… eleven… twelve feet down. Her feet touched the white tiled floor as she turned to face up, and she pushed herself to the surface.

"You cwazy," said her best friend Jillian as Rachel gulped in breaths of air on the side of the pool.

"And why is that, Jill?" she asked in a faux innocent voice (well, as innocent as one could while panting), knowing the answer.

"Because you… the dive… ergh!" Jillian whined.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. "'Ergh?' How eloquent." She had found _eloquent_ in the dictionary while looking up elegant, and was now trying to use it as often as possible, so she could look smarter.

"Eloquent? What are you, like, some old British guy?" asked Jillian in a scathing voice.

"That's racist."

With her eyebrow almost disappearing into her hairline, Jillian asked, "_How?_"

Rachel gave a little shrug of her shoulders, and then said, "I don't know, actually. You always say that about random shit."

After giving Rachel's sentence an irritated eye roll, Jillian turned to the side a bit, deciding to change the subject. "Help me loosen this knot. I wanna make my top tighter" Pause. "Actually, untie it _then _make it tighter."

After pulling herself up onto the upper ledge of the pool, Rachel allowed Jillian to part her brunette hair on either side of her neck so to give Rachel better access to the tie of her bikini.

"I'm tempted to make this fall off," she mused out loud as she adjusted her friend's bathing suit. The thing was, she would. Then take pictures. Then sell them to pervs and pedophiles.

"Gee, 'cause _that _would make you a _great_ friend."

Rachel grinned cheekily. "I know." She yawned. "Very few people know you're a girl. It wouldn't really matter anyway."

"Okay, you totally just stole that from Disney Channel. It's from like the first episode of Shake It Up."

"And _you_ watch too much TV if you instantly know that came from."

"You obviously don't talk to enough people or aren't that smart if you think that _anybody_ wouldn't." Rachel made no signs that she had heard Jillian other than tugging at the knot a little harder than necessary.

Jillian gagged theatrically, and Rachel swatted at her.

"You're being overdramatic," she said, still working at the knot, which was no closer to being untied. "Damn, who tied this? The Boy Scouts?"

Letting her hair drop, Jill turned to face the dark skinned girl who was fixing her own brown hair. "'_Boy Scouts'? Really?" _

A tanned boy their age with blonde hair swam up to them and smiled up at his two friends. "Did you call me?"

"Yes," said Jillian glaring at him. "About five times yesterday!" Well, Jillian was a bit more than his friend…

Rachel rolled her eyes. "No, we didn't call you _Riley._ And Jill, you guys can have a lovers' spat later." Pause. "Hey Riley, would you like it, be embarrassed, or be angry if I made Jill's top fell off?" The scary thing is, she would too.

An embarrassed flush crept onto Riley's cheeks. "Please don't make me answer that," he muttered, looking embarrassed.

Still glaring down at her boyfriend (sheesh, kids these days), Jillian said irritably, "I'm not sure if I should be angry or relieved by that," not hearing (or pretending not to hear) Rachel's snorts.

A loud burst of laughter came from the side of the pool near the row bleachers. "C'mon Riley. I need you to tell these fags that I _did_ get suspended for pantsing Matt Kirod," called a boy with buzzed red hair. "Rachel, come too," he added.

"I'm leaving now." Riley said.

"I would too." Jill replied.

"Bye Riles!" Rachel interjected.

"Don't call me that," said the boy, exasperated.

The two girls watched Riley kick off the wall and swim over to where the majority of the kids were. Rachel sighed. "Jealous," she said pinching Jillian, who shot a puzzled look at her.

"Why, you _have _a boyfriend. He's been waving at you to go over for the past, like, five minutes," Jillian pointed the waving redhead out to her dark haired friend, and Rachel rolled her eyes in return.

"Yes, but I don't want to date him, I want to go out with _Riley_. But you snatched him."

"I'm quick like that."

"Mmmhmm."

"Don't be jealous."

"Jealous!" cried Rachel. "I am not jealous. If anything, you're jealous of _me_."

Sarcastically: "Yes, because everyone is jealous of you Rachel."

"Well, you gotta admit, most people are. I'm pretty amazing."

"Mmmhmm."

Annoyed: "Don't mock me, Jill!"

Jillian rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't if you weren't such a bitch the majority of the time. God, I don't even know why I waste my time with you sometimes." _Because you're rich and popular and we've been best friends since first grade,_ she mentally amended. "And seriously, Connor is like the Justin Bieber of the fifth grade. Most girls would die for him." The sad thing was, some of the girls in their grade probably would di just to impress him.

Rachel stared at Jillian. Then, gathering her wits, said, "There's no need to go monolouging. Or calling me a bitch, bitch. And besides, name four girls who actually _like _Justin Bieber for real."

The other girl rolled her eyes and stood up. "Good-bye," she said coldly. The black girl flipped her off.

Rachel glared at her as Jill walked (no, not walked, _sauntered_) over to where the boys were, and growled as she waved and smiled at a boy with close shaven red (_orange!)_ hair. Then, as Jillian walked back from the edge of the pool to take a dive, she got an idea. Jillian started walking, and Rachel closed her eyes. Envisioning the tie of her friend's bathing suit, Rachel chanted over and over in her head, _Untie. Untie. Untie. _She heard a splash, and opened her eyes, just in time to see Jill's feet disappear under the water.

She smirked as she saw something pink float to the surface. The smirk turned to grin when she heard the others laughing. The grin became worthy of the Cheshire Cat when Jillian's head popped up, blushing right to the roots of her hair.

Things like that happened whenever and to whoever she wanted. She loved it.

Rachel, still grinning, walked up to where Jillian had been standing just moments before. "Oh Jiiilllly, I think you lost something," she called patronizingly, causing the boys and a dark haired girl sitting on the bleachers beside the pool to laugh. She awarded herself with a snort, before a executing a perfect dive.

She grabbed Jill's bathing suit top as she went down.

**A/N: Do you know that this tiny little thing took me **_**ages**_** to write. Seriously. I just about died writing it. I really hope you appreciate it. These first, like four to eight chapters are just so you can get a feel for the characters personalities. And, as much as I loathe saying it, please, review. Even if it was just to say that this was horrible. Because it was. But bear with me please, and see you on the twentieth (I hope)!**


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